


Le Petit Palace

by milliondollarbum



Series: "beta" Louis [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: "beta" louis, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alpha Harry, Alpha Liam, Drugs, Louis-centric, M/M, Omega Louis, Omega Niall, Omega Zayn, mentions of noncon, the nouis zouis is just "&" aka friendship but that tag refused to show
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-22
Updated: 2017-05-22
Packaged: 2018-11-03 20:10:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10974501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/milliondollarbum/pseuds/milliondollarbum
Summary: "The omega. And a actor so great, no one ever questioned his beta statues despise his omega looks. The world's greatest actor, he would become known as. Magazines would talk about Robert Downey Jr, Johnny Depp, Brad Pitt and other million dollar brand names, and still question “Would they ever had played as good as Louis Tomlinson fooled the whole world?”- extract fromRolling Stones Magazine,“The breakdown of the world's most secretive person”





	Le Petit Palace

**THE MISSING SUMMER BEFORE WRITING FOUR**

  
  


_ “It’s been years since One Direction split, and all boys have gone in different directions and taken the path to conquer the music genre. _

_ Harry Styles debut album Sign of the Times was a refreshing start for the indie pop music scene; from  _ stop your crying _ to _ hard candy _ , it was a provocative album made from heartache and forbidden apples. _

_ His mate Niall Horan added in his own soft tunes with his single, and it would be years before releasing an album that spoke to all omegas all over the world; happy generic irish pub songs filled with ale and unwanted dirty touch, to slow accusting of finding the one. _

_ Liam Payne was the one with the most drastically change, going over to hip hop and edm, party and fun up beats songs. His voice would come to dominate the house scene, with his high and low octaves. _

_ Zayn Malik, the second omega of 1D had a tough start with his heartbreaking album, singing about hearts and dirty nights. An alternative R&B that quickly become a classic, despite never staying long in the #1. And like a mix between the mates Styles, he sang out provocative and dirty songs filled with regret and anxiety. Covering depression to non consensual, his raspy voice filled us all with tears despite the explicit language.  _

_ And with so many talents in the alternative genre, you would think they’d use more interesting instruments. _

_ “I think I speak for everyone when I say we love the 80’s and 90’s, all from glam rock that Harry is rooted in, to the iconic punk; to our favourite synth.” Liam Payne reveals on Grimshaw's Nights. _

_ “Finally time to bring in the electronic music and synth then? Something to look forward for your mates album maybe?” The radio host joked back, but viewers could see the anguish expressions on the star's face. _

_ “No. No, never. It was Louis favourite genre.” It took years for the boys to start speaking of the lost band member, and it was still hard to even utter his name. The deep rooted shame filled them all, even when Louis had smiled in the end. _

_ The pain of losing a pack member wasn't anything he’d ever wished for anyone. _

_ “A tribute then, how touching. I’ve always enjoyed the pre-2000 Depeche, shall we play something for that boy? Or maybe Angel from their later album?” Nick said good natural. _

_ A pained sound escaped Liam’s lips, “No. I don’t ever want to hear Depeche Mode again.” _

_ And before the interview could indulge in the topic of his latest single, Liam Payne had exited the recording room.” _

  * extract from **Rolling Stones** Magazine, _“The breakdown of the world's most secretive person”_



* * *

**  
Le Petit Palace **

Louis Tomlinson was a man of many talents, like holding his liquor, drawing elsa in 9 seconds, blowing up three balloons without taking a breath, writing completely perfect backward without a mirror, boil the perfect egg to name a few.

He was also the bad boy, the player, the dream boy, the naughty one of One Direction.

The omega. And a actor so great, no one ever questioned his beta statues despise his omega looks. The world's greatest actor, he would become known as. Magazines would talk about Robert Downey Jr, Johnny Depp, Brad Pitt and other million dollar brand names, and still question  _ “Would they ever had played as good as Louis Tomlinson fooled the whole world?” _

And as Louis become sicker and sicker, while killing his insides with liquor and pretty faces he met Eleanor. Proudest lesbian beta he’d ever met, and together they took over the party scene.

The tables spread rumours of  _ “Playboy Louis finally settling down?” _ whenever he went out with his Eleanor, his annabella. It wasn’t love between them, there wasn’t lust. It was a comradeship he had never felt; she was just as sick and twisted as him. 

Management sent him on more rowdy parties, more dirty pictures. Millions of dollars they earned, just of a picture with him and a hooker named Jasmine, famous alpha in the bdsm ground. 

Kinky, they all added to his resumé of nicknames filled with bad synonyms. 

Through it all, Eleanor was with him. A rich high socialite with more connections than even him; every break they’d flow all over the world creating crazier and more mental parties. That’s where his high functional drug addiction entered overdrive. Over written. 

His calculated intake, careful calculations and strict planning slowly by slowly got erased. Push him a little and he’ll rewrite his own moral code; until everything that made up Louis Tomlinson was immoral.

It was a night like that, seven in the morning and the party finally seemed to mellow out, starting to become more of a after party smelling of afterglow.

“These pills will be the death of me, I’ll get the dancing sickness back in the fourteenth century I tell ya’,” Calvin slurred out, half naked and a hand down his pants.

The omega besides him giggled -he didn’t know her name but he’s pretty sure it’s some common maldivian sea name starting with S- “They say fucking on e is even better than dancing for the whole night.” 

And like that, they both were gone to find some un occupied bedroom in Louis’ small mansion. 

Louis looked at the mess that was his home, but couldn’t be fucked to do anything about it. He carefully stumbled around on the floor, avoiding used needles and burned spoons, making his way to the master bedroom.    
  


“Gon’ write, gonna write so fucking hard, make some poetry and scream fuck it all,” He sang off tuned under his breath as he finally found his door, opening it with a push of his hips, “boom de-le boom de-la boom cocaine!” he sang triumphantly as he found his diary.

“May 23… or is it already april? No april is before may…” He mumbled as he took out his phone to check the date. 

Huh. He’s playing music, apparently. “In your room - Depeche Mode” stared up at him. He did have an amazing taste in songs, but the fact that he couldn’t hear them weirded him out- honestly, what kind of drug cocktail did he inhale this day.

Arms sneaked up around his stomach, “Always writing in that god forsaken diary. You’re like your namesake.” Eleanor said into his back, her breast pushing up against him desperately. 

“You don’t want me to fuck you, doll, get in with reality.” Louis said back as he started to write.

She laughed, maniacally and crazy, “Reality is bullshit! Reality sure as fuck doesn’t exist, it’s all our own made up desperate plea for something to mean.” He unconsciously wrote down the words she said in his ear, instead of his own thoughts.

“We are the the present, and our past future, and the futures past. We are everything and nothing.” He murmured back, stretching out his hand on the table. Bottles everywhere and some still had to be full. 

He found a Jack. Jack’s always good. 

“If we are in the history that is now our present and future, I declare you Louis XVI of France, same namesake and same habit of writing a diary.” Eleanour said, taking a hold of a red wine bottle as she threw herself in his bed, spilling blood red liquor in the shape of rorschach.

That one could be so smart and informed, to be so knowledged about everything and still be a god damn fucking train wreck on the level of himself, did comfort him.

“Then, are you my Sanson or Marie-Antoinette?” He murmured back, closing his diary. He still didn’t know what day it is. 

“I’d love to be a Sanson.”

“I’d be my own damn Sanson.”

His little palace. Le petit Palace.

* * *

_  
“I give in to sin, because I like to practise what I preach,” _ Louis sings in tune with his choices, fine red Prosecco wine in a tea mug, black devil’s chocolate cigarette laying next to him.

The tour bus’ heading through Austria at the moment, the only light is the clear moon shining in through his half open windows where he dumps his fags and cancer breath. _ “Pain, will you return it? I won’t say it again,”  _ He sang with deep voice, the drums and clear synths echoing through his earphones.

The screen subliminal illuminates the room with a soft glow. **01:07 Strangelove** , spells out with  _ Music for the Masses _ albums covers his screen.

Louis had always enjoyed Depeche Mode, from A Broken Frame to Delta Machine. It was just something raw to listen to their blasphemous songs screaming of pain, bdsm and having no power.

With the knowledge that they all started out as religious freaks, to become abdomen atheist. 

And Louis snickered, Harry Styles would never amount for what Martin Gore had done; that alpha boy might be trying to reach the genderless androgynous but he didn’t know shit about life. 

Neither of his boys knew anything. Wet behind their ears, so naïve and pure-- how the celebrities dark side hadn’t reached them, he will never phantom. 

A hand touches his shoulder, and Louis’ whole body twitches. He didn’t expect anyone to be awake at this hour, more often than not going to sleep as early as they can to get their good little omega’s their 8 hour sleep.

“Sorry, is my smoke that distinct?” Louis ask as he takes out his earphones, already missing the music in the silent night.

“Nah,” Zayn says as he sat down next to him on the worn couch, “Couldn’t sleep. Liam and the others are dead to everything, just entered rem sleep if I’m correct. Wanted to take a mary for relaxing purpose.” 

The tan boy shrugs as he lights up. Louis’ doesn’t call on his bullshit.

“Why are you awake still?” Zayn ask, his eyes lingering on the wine and half empty cig package. He doesn’t bring it up.

Louis shrugs back as he pours up another glass of wine, stealing a hit from zayn’s mouth, “Couldn’t sleep either.”

Zayn doesn’t bring up the fact that he never goes to sleep at the same time as them, doesn’t bring up the endless times he’ve caught him awake three in the morning. Doesn’t bring up that he’ve heard Louis whimpering in his sleep. 

He must have thought it out loud, as he catches Louis gaze. Zayn takes ahold of the wine bottle, taking three healthy large gulps. 

“I won’t bring it up, it’s your secret side you never show. I won’t ask questions, I’ll never judge you, Loueh. But I’ll always be here for you.” They’re passing by a small city, few old red painted houses and a ghostly ill lit gasoline stop.

It brightens up the room a little, but nothing like the moon, “I know. Alcohol is bad for omegas.” Louis says back, avoiding the subject.

Zayn huffs a laugh, he have missed his best mate. Louis always used to sneak beer and wine to him and Niall, when their alpha’s was shitty and didn’t allow them. Louis always took care of them, always poured up water and hangover pills.

And, Zayn wondered, who took care of Louis. It should be their Alpha’s, but they never spared him a glance. 

With all that in his head, he said those three simple word, “I love you.” 

Three simple words, three god damn simple words that most couples hears everyday, all children hears from their parents.  

Louis froze up. The top three words he heard nowadays would be “I hate you”, “Go away, cunt”, “Please fuck me”, “Fuck you bitch”, and so on. Never anything positive. 

There’s been two times he have ever heard  _ I Love You. _ From all his fans, which can never be classified as love as much as admiration and delusional as they don’t know him.

And his father's whispering in the ear when the moon is out and the smell of sweat.

And for the first time in years, Louis feels something without the helps of drugs and alcohol. Butterflies start swimming in his belly, his whole face melts as his cheeks strains under his smile, his eyes brighter and his body light as air.

And for the first time in years, Louis says something truthful, “I love you too.” 

* * *

_  
“ _ _ You’re becoming quite the family man, Mr. Styles,” Ellen joked as the the couple sat down in the sofa. _

_ Niall took ahold of the wine class presented, “Nah, still only one child. But God know’s one’s enough- barely slept three hours during Louis’ first year.” _

_ “But we are quite a family, power couple of indie pop, like some used brandeligna.” Harry said to the host. _

_ “Aha! There it is- the power couple of indie pop. Did you ever think you would end up this way when you were in the most popular band?” She asked straightforward. _

_ “No, I don’t think any of us ever imagined going solo- we were the most popular band, the biggest fanbase, why would we ever give it up.” Niall said. _

_ “Our fan support is the only reason we’ve made it as big as we have- without them we would be nothing.” Harry continued. _

_ “Quite the big fan support to take you all to number one in seconds,” Ellen joked back, her alpha voice adding in unconsciously. _

_ “We’re here tonight to speak of your singles - soft hands and kiwi; released a month apart and both dominating the charts still. You must be living under a rock to not have heard them!” She spoke to the audience, playing a five second clip of them both. _

_ “But me, like all, have always wondered: Louis Tomlinson, who were he really?” Ellen asked. _

_ It’s been a decade since his death. It still hurt. _

_ “Louis was a boy, in reality. He was the oldest of us all, knew more of how the underground deals and works to be healthy; he was a pro at finding loopholes. Had he’d not been placed into One Direction, he would have become the world's finest con man.” Harry said. _

_ “He did love his french namesake, nicknaming all his properties as Le Petit Palace.” Niall continued fondly. _

_ “Outside that who were he? was he the playboy or an omega that changed the game with adventures fucks, the kinky one with the alpha girl, or the soft spoken heartbreaking cheater?” She pressured on, placing her arms on her knees, leaning forward; she wanted the big scoop. _

_ To play in his tribute, Personal Jesus started to play, just those simple chords of the background live band. _

_ Niall lost it. _

_ “Don’t you ever breath his name, don’t you ever dare play Depeche.” Niall hissed, Harry holding him back. _

_ “It’s been a decade and you still don’t know him at all- you think his diary gave out the truth, no, no, it was so much more to Louis Tomlinson than that bloody diary you all keep quoting.” _

_ “You are all painting him up as martyr of omegas- don’t please just fucking dont-don’t you ever speak of grace with his name. Stop using Louis as a symbol for omegas rights.” Niall spoke, harsh breathing and sad eyes. _

_ “Louis was never an omega, he wasn’t pure. He knew exactly what he was doing, He had it all planned down,” _

_ “Are you telling me, you think so little of him that his father's rape was a some simple thing that just happened? Because yes. Yes, that is what’s casually happening to ⅕ of all omegas. 20% of all omegas have been raped and you all make it into stories, into jokes.” _

_ “You disgust me, I thought better of you- but to use Louis name to gain quick views. You’re a scum.” He said, his alpha mocking a bow before following his mate outside.” _

_ It wasn’t the first, neither the last someone tried to force them to speak of Louis. _

_ And with our previous knowledge that Louis loved synth, especially Depeche Mode; and the other boys stark distaste of it- one thing is certain. Depeche must have played during all those bad times, and it’s becoming some sort of PTSD when listening. _

_ And when Niall Styles confirmed that Louis called his house ‘Le petit palace’, I think we all know whom he had given the house nickname in tribute to.” _

 

  * extract from **Rolling Stones** Magazine, _“The breakdown of the world's most secretive person”_



* * *

  
**Le Petit Palace**

It’s only a week left before he leaves for tour, and it’s been forever since he’d been outside.

Between writing all songs together with Liam in the studio, to  _ different surroundings brings new perspective _ , aka writing in the forest with only booze and vodka to relieve his itch, he’d been at home the whole break.

West Germany didn't have shit with their level of blasphemy sinning.

A two month long party which never changed. His home, his mansion, filled with guest rooms infested with party people and junkies waking up and deciding that vodka smoothies are the best hangover cure, to people sleeping in sunbeds around the pool, which more fucked than swam in.

The curtains were always drawn, gates always closed until 18-20, the time for new arrivals and deliveries. 

His whole house was a mess, as always. He called the damn cleaning service every morning and yet by midnight it would look like a bomb had landed. His unlocked iPhone laid at the table with the stereo, open and bare for anything to look around, fuck around, queue song.

Not that anyone ever queued, “Oops!” Sarah said, barely standing with the help of three other girls, all off different gender, all in the same revealing dress.

“It’s our song!” Jessica from the girl group shouted, bumping her fist in the air- her fist with a wine glass spilling white wine on everyone and the floor.

They all laughed like it was something funny,  _ Big In Japan _ started playing on with the loudest tremble making the floor shake. Sarah fell forward, exposing her cunt- for whom had time for underwears, really.

_ “Oh when you’re big in Japan, tonight!”  _ They all sang along, everyone knew Alphaville’s iconic song. From the whore in the corner that everyone took shots and coke from, to the junkies in the middle dancing with a pass along needle, to the wasted ones dancing on tables with bills in their string bikinis. 

_ “Pay, then I’ll sleep by your side, things are easy when you're big in Japan,”  _ Off tune wouldn’t even describe the singing, but it was in the heat of the moment where no one gave a fuck about singing, just screaming their lungs out.

“You’ve been in Japan right?” Eleanor took a seat next to him, it was an extraordinary beige sofa with lionheads fots, imported from his house in spain. It wasn’t even beige anymore, and half the spots he didn’t know the origin.

Louis barely looked at her, “Should I find a table, or can I sniff from you.” He didn’t phrase it as a question, already knowing the answer. 

Eleanor kicked down his ipa with her red heel stilettos as she laid down on the sofa, already taken of her top. Never wearing a bra despite her F-cup, Louis knew they were as fake as his identity. 

“The first one to bring me cocktail, I’ll let them taste!” Louis screamed out in the room, they didn’t know what he offered, but they all knew he bought the high quality.

Five drinks, barely sipped, was thrust into him in seconds. He laughed, “El, dear, hope you’re not against taking five more.” 

“Just gimme some after and I’ll be your pretty lil’ whore slut.” She winked, he laughed; lust and love for them was as forbidden as eden apple. Not forbidden per say, but they both know they wouldn’t fit together sexually. 

“Gon’ take away all your tan, just sprinkle you white like some dope ass drug thug.” Louis kissed her forehead before doing what he said, emptying three 10g bags all over her tummy and breast, the rest was up for him and the others to divide up.   
  


The night continued like that, dirty jokes and drugs mixed with cocktails and hardcore alternative edm.

She’s barely two but Louis is wasted- gone, fucked with the world. Fucked with the wind, he giggled, he should be a damn O’hara with everything he’d overcome. 

Louis should eat and drink litres of water. He stumbles into the dancefloor, going to his phone on the table, putting on Black Celebrations. 

Turning around, facing all of his guest not fucking in his guest rooms he screams, “Let’s play-”

“Master and Servant!” The shouted with him.

It was never a play, and they all knew it; and they all knew that neither was the other, everyone was both and everything as long as the needle, warmth, cocaine, mary and molly was in the picture. 

_ “Let’s play, master and servant” _

He gave the commando, and it was with sick joy he watched the orgy that started because of his simple words. He hears screams, moans and groans, but mostly he hears the music. He checks his condoms in his back pocket before diving down between all naked people- after all, it wouldn’t be a Tomlinson party without getting nude at least once.   
  
  


It’s in the bedroom his worlds crashes down.

_ “With me on top and you underneath, forget all about equality.” _ She sang so softly. Louis was in his kingsized bed with her, pillows all around them and him trying desperately to reach any of the other boys by imessage on his macbook.

There was a wine bottle of both night stands, no glasses, and a ashtrail. 

She’s barely 4.

_ “Infector, Injector, Defector, Rejector, I drink from the cup of denial, I’m judging the world from my throne,” _

She’s 04:05

_ “Daddy, daddy Cool, she’s crazy like a fool,” _

04:18

_ “Call him Mr.Raider, call him Mr.Wrong, call him Mr.Vain, call him insane,” _

04:34

“El, baby, why are you sobbing?” Louis said, shutting down his mac book. She’ve never cried before. “Is there anyone I should ruin? Anyone I should kill?” He stroked her hair.

“No. No I- I-” She gasped for breath, breaking down completely.

Eleanor was precious to this planet, unknown- definitely. A only child between the two biggest star, one of glam rock, and one of punk.

She held the silvery chains with a lock like her father, and had yet to give anyone the key; and her papa was barely sober enough to remember her existence.

And yet she smiled through it all, didn’t let her father's legacy dominate her life.  _ “You must become a singer! Your voice is amazing!” _ She’ve been told over and over.

Over and fucking over. You should become a singer, it’s in your genes. She didn’t- she refused. She’d seen the bad side of stardome early. She refused to be part of it. Eleanor was a dream, a faint wraith of every big party, a ghost leaving you alone in the bed the morning after.

Eleanor wanted everything but fame. She wanted to party, to get drunk and high on everything, she tried it all- she wanted a purpose. She needed to find a fucking purpose. And like that, she became Alice, she became his Antionette, the one in forever hunger and want to explore and get out.  

Eleanor Calder never found a purpose, and she’s still looking for one with Louis at her side.

And if she was the protagonist of Roger Waters- The Wall, she buried her own feelings deep down. She’ll never reach the end song of Pink Floyd, she’ll always be stuck in the middle.

She’ll be stuck on the one where they purely play porn on stage. For Eleanor is famous for her loose legs, quick tongue and pretty lil’ mouth, ready for anyone. 

“I’ll never have children.” El said, her head still down in the pillow, wine bottle held with an iron grip just outside the bed. Tears streaming down her face, dying it all black with her heavily mascara and eyeliner.

“Me neither.” He confessed with her. She didn’t know his secret, but he’s pretty sure she’ve already guessed it.

04:57

_ “For whom the bells tows, time marches on,” _

Her crying continued, soft and unwarranted. He knew that kind so he let her be, just held a hand on her shoulders to let her know that he is here, he is warmth and he will never spill.

Louis heated up the spoon, and took a drag from his mary. Always a duel between her and his cancer stick for whom to get ashed first.

05:21

It’s a beautiful sunrise, dying the street pink, leaves in orange and the sky looked as red as if a Ares won.

His mother used to say the sky looked red only when it was too high halt of carbon dioxide. He wondered if his crack mum ever knew anything.

Eleanor’s bottle was empty, and with pity Louis gave her a ale, never good to mix alcoholic but they both were too far away to care.

They always were.

He wondered if they had ever met sober. He wondered when was the last time he didn't have anything circulating his system.

“I’ll never have children,” She repeated again. Sipping her beer, “I have a god damn fucking rod-contraception.”

Louis froze. His hand found her hand to squeeze while he sipped the last of his bottle. He knew what she was going to end with, but he refused to believe it until she said it out loud. 

The aged champagne was there in a moment from his hidden mini fridge- he’d save it for when their contracts was to be re-negotiated. But this. This night he knew, it would be needed.

“Sparkling, just for me? My, this is at least a 50k champagne.” Eleanor said, taking a sip.

“I’d offer glasses, but I think we’re both far too long to even give a fuck about that. I’m too drunk to even appreciate the taste, it tastes just like roches blended with citrus cider.” Louis laid his arm around her, let her head rest against his chest.

She shook from withheld tears, and he squeezed her tightly. “I just was so focused to never get pregnant- I never wanted a child of mine to enter this world. I would be a shit mum. I’m just like you; hiding our daddy issues behind sparkling champagne and hardcore illegal drugs; telling all our normal friends that we’re fine with red printed eyes.”

“We tell them ‘we’re okay’ but we are not okay! We are not even close to being okay- but they take our fucking word, they believe us despite our rose iris and fake smiles. Just. They fucking believe us.” She ranted on with shaky breath, his shirt becoming wet.

“-and you never wanted them too. Darling I know, but people are people like Depeche sang, they don’t give a fuck as long as it’s not to their own enjoying. And if they did notice your distress, they’ll say ‘My friend had the most awful day…’ and continue to tell your story like a cheap small talk or ice breaker.” Louis’ took the champagne from her limp grip.

“I know.” She repeated, hugging him tighter, hers fist almost white.

“Everything you’ve ever done is justified- you’re completely sick, god knows; you’ve fucked up more time than I could count, but it’s  _ you _ . I love you, Eleanor Calder.”

And she broke down in his arms, “Despite it all I’m a whore- I fuck around too easily, just some charming words and my cunts open and ready for another night of abuse.”

“I let them creamie pie me, let their disgusting white cum drip out of me as I felt nothing.” 

She took a deep breath, “STD, AIDS, HIV, throwing arounds acronyms like I’d know. But they all say the same: caught too late- way too late.” She cried into his shirt. “God, this is the only time I’ll ever be happy we’ve never fucked.”

“They say they can fix it. They say it’s a simple cold; after my father's interfered. I know how useless they are, I know they’ll change nothing.” 

She took a breath as she took another hit of the champagne, “Two weeks, they says. Don’t give fuck how much money my non existent dad’s pour in the hospitals; my death day’s is literally under 14 days."

There were multiple things he could say. He could offer her prayers, he could cheer her up; he could say that the doctors are obviously wrong. 

Louis squeezed her shoulders harder and says, “What song do you want me to play at your funeral.”

A broken, dry rasp of breath more like it, “ I don’t care. As long as it is not any of my father's’ song.”

“I’ll create a lullaby for you, darling. I’ll sing the best song to date. I’ll give you everything. Please, please don’t leave me alone.” 

And she coughed out a mock of a laugh, her cancer filled breath still took him away, “I’ll always love you, Louis. Not like a brother, not like a lover. Just something in between, most would call best friends. But you’re more than that to me. You’re my everything.” She confessed.

“First time I saw you was when you'd just released Midnight Memories, you were broken and alone. Not alone per se, surrounded by your two oh so lovely couples that made up One Direction. It was obvious that you didn’t fit in, that the others didn’t give a fuck about you.”

“They only cared about themselves and their mate, going in different directions, and leaving you to navigate and charm the rich people. And it fascinated me so much, how you gained sponsor after sponsor; while the other barely gave a shit about the banquet made in their honor; the Alpha’s that was supposed to speak about the new album just wanted a corner to fuck their omega.”

“Yet there you were, making deals, joking with kids, talkinging left wing politician with the rich.”

“It was you alone that shaped One Direction ‘til it is what it is today. “

Louis’ broke down with her. Few times in his life he have ever felt his worth-and to hear it be confirmed. It was everything.

To know that she have barely two weeks left and he’s leaving on a tour in a week. It broke them both more than words can say.

“Hey, we’ll write everyday, okay? Not facebook or messengers- fuck that. I want detailed descriptions of your day written in letters and our secrets thoughts. I’ll always answer your messages and calls, but let's go back to old school.” 

“I’ll fax you,” She joked, falling asleep in a second.

Louis looked at her, draining the champagne until he was barely functional. 2 weeks. It was the doctor's nice way of saying 4-11 days.

Hell. She could be gone tomorrow morning with her destructive lifestyle. 

For the first time he kissed her, a quick peck where he fell asleep cuddling her.

“You never belonged in this world, but please don’t you ever dare to leave me.”

* * *

Louis woke up to hugging a corpse.

Le petit palace have one upped the Little Palace- no matter how many that died of overdose in their sick castles, this was a death of nature.   
  


He didn’t say anything for a whole week, just let the music speak for him and let the needles scars grow.   
  


And then, it was time for the tour of the album he and Liam had written.

 

_ (1D BOIS) _

_ (04:43) L.T “pleaease jsut fucking cume by she barely 4 nd the partys’s been on ggoing since like 2 monthts ya’ll know that” _

_ (05:11) N.H “Sorry mate! Was busy the whole night, and I didn’t know of your two month party?” _

_ (06:32) L.P “Busy.” _

_ (09:58) Z.M “how have I missed your two month party??” _

_ (10:04)L.T “I need your help” _

_ (23:47) L.T “You all let me down.” _

 

Harry never replied. Neither of the omegas even fucking knew of the party even if he had sent texts every each day. They didn’t even fucking know. None of the four fucking boys answered his plea for help. He knew them all saw, he knew they all didn’t care.

No one was there for him when he lost the only one he had quite loved.

* * *

_  
“It’s Zayn Malik, one of the R&B most famous singers- live here at James Corden. _

_ The omega singer entered the stage, but froze the moment he recognised Stripped. _

_ Zayn threw himself at James, landing a good right wing punch make up could barely cover the next episode, screaming and clawing “You know damn well Depeche is of subject, you never cared for Louis despite being a family friend!” _

_ Forcefully lead off stage with a guard, first row iphones captured the moment, “You never gave a damn about him, you sick power hungry swine!” _

 

 

  * _extract from **Rolling Stones** Magazine, _“The breakdown of the world's most secretive person”__



 

* * *

  
Niall James Horan had been 17 when One Direction started.

And like all the other boys, he soon realised how manipulative Cowell were, to make them place third so they would sign anything. 

Like all other omegas, he searched for a mentor, guardian. He found Harry Styles after a year, but he was only a mate. He would never guide him to his excellent, he would rather keep him in a nest.

He found Louis. Tomlinson, the paper smeared with spit, a vile beta no one had control over- that’s what everyone thought. Neither of the boys nor fans realised most of his stunts were pr, never realised how sick he was yet forced to go clubbing.

But Louis Tomlinson took it with stride and found a strict schedule and home prescription meds for his stressful life.

And in this broken boy, Niall Horan found a twisted mentor.

He’d point out flaws with a casual air, never feeling like he broke them down; just pointed out “Hey, it would sound better if you did an octave higher,” or “You have the voice of an angel, don’t tempest with the dark tones,” and he’d always, always, point out everything  _ they’d _ , Zayn and Niall, contributed to every song.

And Niall wondered, did they ever do the same back.   
  


He had had a fight with Harry that evening, over something so insignificant- Harry was just jealous and close to rut, had accused him of flirting with some of the avenue sound checkers. He didn’t, and he swore he’d never, flirt with anyone except his Alpha.

But Harry had been a dick and didn’t listened. So it was with rage in heart and inheld frustrated tears he stormed to the tour bus.

Niall wanted to be alone, wanted to listen to rock so loud he wouldn’t need to focus on anything but heavy drums; but when he entered the bus silent as a fuming wraith he heard it-

“ _ Come with me, into the trees. We’ll lay on the grass, and let the hours pass.”  _ Louis soft voice sang out with a deep tremble, his hands in front of him waving lazily around the air, the other holding on to his white joint.

_ “Take my hand, come back to the land. Let’s get away, just for one day.” _ It was with heart he sang those words, shaking voice yet his face didn’t move an inch, such a sick apathy being displayed.  _ “Let me see you stripped down to the bone.” _

_ “Let me see you stripped down to the bone,” _ He sang with such a dark and rich voice he’ve never heard the beta use before. It was amazing, his vocal range. And once again Niall wondered why he didn’t have more solos.

_ “Metropolis has nothing on this, you’re breathing in fumes, I taste when we kiss.” _ A voice behind him sang out with airy lightness, bringing in the smell of death and cancer.

“Zayn.” Louis’ hand stopped moving, “Niall. What a pleasure, boys, to have both my favourites joining me at once this lovely night.”  

And the beta smiled, small dimples and pristine white teeth screaming of bleach. It didn’t reach his eyes, Niall noted. It never did. And to make such a smile while a second ago he looked like a indifferent apparition.

It was like magic. Like his vocabulary, always adding extra fairy verbs words.

“Always loved that song,” Zayn said as he took a seat next to Louis, “Learned it by heart as soon as I heard Metropolis.”

Niall broke out with a grin, “Trust you to learn everything that’s somewhat related to Superman.” He didn’t sat down on the couch with the others, oped for the floor.

“Trust you to know what I’m speaking about.” Zayn countered back.

“Touché.”

Louis saw both omegas watching the un opened six pack of pistonhead and his fúmes bag in box, “Don’t drink too much, don’t want your darling Alpha’s on me tomorrow.” 

“Irish genes, never wake up hungover,” Niall stated proudly.

“Bullshit, remember the AMA gala? I couldn’t even take a cigarette in the morning, and you were moaning about the sunlight being too bright for you shit fuck headache.” Zayn grinned back as he opened the beer, draining a third then burping.

Classy boys.

Niall laughed, “I think we all can agree that the AMA night never happened,” and he looked at Louis, who. Who was making a contemplating face, as if trying to remember exactly what happened, which day it even were.

It was only for a split second, before Louis chuckled good natural, “Like Vegas.” 

“Let’s make a Vegas tonight!” Zayn cheered. 

From the shouting the room next to his and Harry’s, Niall guessed Zayn had a fight too. 

And like an unwritten rule, if you wanted to be alone from the Alpha’s you went to the Beta. And for the first time Niall wondered, when did that happen. 

* * *

__ There’s a new game we like to play, you see  
__ A game with added reality  
_ You treat me like a dog  
_ __ Get me down on my knees

_ We call it Master and Servant _

__ It’s a lot like life, this game between the sheets  
_ With you on top and me underneath  
_ __ Forget all about equality

_ Let’s play Master and Servant _

__ Domination’s the name of the game  
__ In bed or in life   
_ They’re both just the same  
_ __ Except in one you’re fulfilled at the end of the day 

* * *

 

"How did you ever deal with twins, I can never phantom, Louis here was a hell to take care of." Niall said as he swirled his wine.   
  
It was their night, omegas only. Barely every two month they could make it happened, but every time they were thankful to be away from their alpha's strong scent.   
  
Don't take them wrong- they loved their mates dearly, but it could become overwhelming. And the knowledge of the hurt they inflicted on their fifth band member didn’t help.   
  
Nights like these, they rent a honeymoon suit and did whatever pleases them. More often than not it's thai take away, white wine and a sip of 43 with new music they have found playing softly in the background.   
  
On the bad nights it was hotel service pancakes, shots and fruit colored cocktails with music so loud they could barely hear their own thoughts. Where everything tasted salt, and neither mentioning the tears streaming down their face when Louis' solo came on.   
  
It was a good night, and Zayn opened a bottle as he snorted, "They aren't maniacs always-getting-into-trouble like your boy. My girls are angels, devoted to our faith and always gets top grades."   
  
"Just wait 'til they hit puberty, then you'd wish for a boy." Niall laughed half heartedly.   
  
"Yeah. Gon' be a bitch, but at least they are open with their religion and heritage." Zayn smiled sadly. He had been on the worse end of the contract with Modest!, where he always had to hide his faith.   
  
He sent a silent blessing to Louis once again, if not for him Zayn would have continued to hide his heritage.   
  
It was his encouraging, not Liam, nor his lawyers, it was Louis that sat him down during Midnight Memories tour and told him to "Straight up your act, lad, you'll never fit in as a white boy anyway."   
  
Sure, he had been wasted and sing songed it into his ear, but the morning after he had delivered documents with loopholes in the contract that could make him reunited with his faith and famil publicly.   
  
"I miss him." Zayn said after a while, draining his whole glass, "I still fucking miss him so much."   
  
And Niall didn't even have to ask whom he meant.   
  
He hugged the older one, an awkward form of one arm while the other held his wine. However, it never felt weird or wrong with them, it was a special bond that had formed over Louis death. Something their Alpha's would never understand.   
  
In One Direction Niall and Zayn had been friends at best, never really interacting.    
  
After One Direction, Niall and Zayn was something so much more, something realer. Louis changed them both, formed them like clays without ever knowing.   
  
Liam and Harry was just _ there, _ in all grand of schemes, they were the Alphas, but they weren't there to build them up as persons, like Louis did.   
  
And Niall uttered the word he've never spoken but always known deep inside his heart, "I wish, I pray for every deity up above, that my Louis will never become an omega."   
  
The rights for male omegas and alpha females changed drastically after  _ his _ death.   
  
It didn't matter.   
  
Niall and Zayn had been privileged. The root of hate is still there.   
  
"I'd rather die than see him become one. We could never shield him from the deep rooted hate; my boy is too much like his namesake. He’d figured it out in a week's time, always out breaking rules and causing havoc.” Niall breathed harder.

“He’s so like his namesake it  _ hurts _ .”

Zayn were there to hold him through the night.

* * *

_ “So who was he in the end? _

_ If you ask Google, “Louis Tomlinson is…” It will answer: Omega, player, Beta, saint, disgusting, One Direction, dead date. An interesting combination of both good and bad, and everyone desperately trying to find out which.  _

_ We wanted to know, and from fans to band members, no one seemed to know. His whole life and past have been bared for the world to see through his diary, yet Niall heated comment made it sure that it was more going on behind the scenes. _

_ His family didn’t know anything in the end, and under protection they’ve all changed names. But his step father revealed what we’ve all know: That boy would go to the earth’s end just to protect those he loved. _

_ So who was this Louis Tomlinson?  _

_ The Martyr of male omegas? _

_ The Saint of Drugs? _

_ Or just another victim of OD, like most other stars? _

_ We will never know; by exposing himself to this snake skin diary, he gave us more puzzle pieces to a unknown frame, which half was jigsawed and barely fitted in.” _

 

 

  * _extract from **Rolling Stones** Magazine, _“The breakdown of the world's most secretive person”__



 

* * *

__ I’m not going down on my knees, begging you to adore me  
__ Can’t you see it’s misery, and torture for me  
__ Here is a plea  
__ From my heart to you  
_ When I’m not there  
_ __ In spirit I’ll be there

Louis Styles was seven year old, and excited as few. He doubted even his papa and dad had been so excited when they performed for the first time- no, this was huge! He was starting Kingsley private school.  
  
No more babies and kindergarten! He was a school boy! He’d have books to carry around and papers divided in his colourful folder.  
  
And he didn't want to brag, but he could already spell the whole alphabet, even the lowercase ones! And he did know the basic of plus so he’s really proud.  
  
Louis will be the best kid in his grade, that he knew. And he will have lots of friends! There were only five others graduating together with him from his kindergarten, but they were all ready best friends.   
  
And now he’ll get a whole class as best friends.   
  
Nothing was stopping him.  
  
“I’m Louis Styles, my pa’ and dad is sing stars and I can count to a thousand!” He bragged during the introduction.

The girl next to him, tanned with bushy hair introduced herself as “Kathy Sterling, a born adventurers explorer that can count to ten thousand.”

It was rivalries on the spot.   
  


Their parent held a dinner a week later.

“Welcome Styles! We’re not that used to raising children, it would seems!” Mrs. Sterling joked, mother of five. 

“Imagine my surprise when I heard my only daughter had gotten sent to the principal only three days in- I’ve had my four rowdy boys but they  _ atleast  _ waited until the second week!” She smiled, showing creases around her eyes.

Yeah, Niall definitely liked her. Not that many over the age of forty that hadn’t done cosmetic surgery in their neighbourhood, “Pleasure’s all ours, thank you for the invite. And we should be apologizing- God know’s our Lou’s a handful.”

Niall ignored his son's scream of “Hey!”, seeing Harry ruffles his hair with a murmur of, “You are quite the meniac thought, son.”

“Come in, come in, can’t carry a conversation in the bloody doorway,” Mr. Sterling said to them, then looking down at his only daughter, who held her arms over her chest.

“Can can you, but should shouldn’t you,” She said matter of factly.

Louis bared his teeth.

Harry hide his snicker with a cough, and Niall didn’t bother covering his smile. So this was the girl Louis had ranted about. 

“Kathy, dear, the dinner won’t be for another twenty minutes. Do you want to sit with us adults and our boring chit-chat, or go up to your room with Louis?” Mrs. Sterling asked amused.

Definitely used to making up illusion of choices for her children. 

Kathy stuck out her tongue, “Blegh! You are  _ boring _ with other couple!”

Louis didn’t waste time pointing at his parents, “Yeah! Super boring with other adults!” Then he frowned. 

“Hey! I did  _ not _ agree with you!” Louis pointed to Kathy instead, stressing the ‘not’.

Harry didn’t hide his snickering this time, oh precious children. 

“I’ll show you my room but if you break something I’ll tell your pa’!” Kathy said back, completely ignoring him, “My room is filled with treasures and if you’re nice I’ll let you see them.” And then she walked away to the grand staircase.

It took Louis two seconds to respond, “Hey! I’m always nice I’ll have you know!” Then running after her.

Mrs. Sterling chuckled, “It’s so nice to see this side of her, you boy have brought her out from this quiet shell she used to be.”

“No, no, we should be thanking you. With all his thoughts on Kathy and mutterings, he haven’t been half as annoying as usual.” Harry said back as they took a seat in their large beige sofa.

Niall elbowed him in his side.

“Sorry, half as hand full, I meant darling.” 

The living room was spacious, filled with warmth only a full house of pups could manage, from ill fitted favourite blankets in the rainbows all colours, to the latest playstations and nintendo guitars laying around.

“Tried to clean it up, but I would get such an earful from the kids every time I tried to move anything.” Mr. Sterling said as he poured up four glasses of champagne, “But that’s what makes it home, innit?” 

Harry and Niall looked at each other, at the house that held such warmth, “Yeah. That’s what make it home.” 

 

“Your room is o-obs-sekrn-” Louis tried to pronounce.

“Obscene,” Kathy corrected without looking back, “And no- it’s all treasures!” 

Louis looked at the room, it was as big as his. Not nearly as messy, Kathy had all her clothes in her wardrobe and bed made unlike him. But she had things everywhere, overflowing her two bookshelves, on the side of her dresser, beside her bed, over her bed. Things  _ everywhere. _

Louis wrinkled his nose as he got to the first bookshelves. “What is that?”

Kathy went to lay on her bed, “It’s a statue from Egypt. Bast, protector of woman and cats.” Then she got a thoughtful face, “You’re quite like a cat, aren’t you?”

“That’s a compliment, cat’s are awesome,” Louis responded as he cheeked out her figures. It was definitely old mythological statues, blended with superheroes. He’d recognize batman a mile away, he reckon.

“And this shelf?” Louis asked, “Seems boring.” He touched a glass bottle.

“No!” Kathy shouted, “Be careful with that!” She jumped up to stand beside him, cradling the glass bottle carefully. 

“It’s a wish.” She said with fond eyes as she carefully opened the corc.

“A wish? How childish.” Louis snorted.

“No, you send away a letter in a bottle for the demon to grant. It’s the most precious possession I have, it’s someone’s most inner wish.” She spoke gentle as she unraveled the old beige paper.

Louis looked at her, she seemed so sure that this demon at the sea might exist. “The sea’s just a five minute bike, want to make a wish?” He asked nonchalant, hands down his pocket.

And the smile she gave her could rival the sun, “Sure!” then, “Oh mother calls for food!” and off she went to the kitchen.

Louis stared at her retreating form before picking up her most precious letter, he did wonder if the demon at the sea ever granted it.  

  
**_I wish for a new beginning together with the other boys. LWT._ **

**Author's Note:**

> "Gahan became almost a parody of a junkie rock star, seemingly bent on doing himself harm. He lived in a Los Angeles apartment with blacked out windows that he calleded the 'purple palace' because so many people nearly died there from overdoses: 'after an earthquake the rain used to come pouring in, so there was giants bins everywhere. Everyone was so fucked up that none of it got dealt with. It was disgusting." - Depeche 
> 
> Tumblr @milliondollarbum


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